Analysis: The Helpless Customer

Every day when I clock into my job at Old Navy, I already know I’m going to be tired. During orientation My boss told me I was never going to get bored because every day was going to be different. My boss lied. Every day is about the same. Sure the people are different but, they all pretty much fit into the molds of their clones from yesterday. Day after day, after day, the customers make my life a living hell. When I first started, I loved my job. I was always happy to be there, at that drab grey clothing store with its concrete floors and warehouse like interior. I probably loved it because it gave me a more interesting perspective other than my school life and home life. However after working there for a while I realized that every customer …show more content…
Their only defect is that they are useless human beings that cannot be left alone in a store to fend for themselves. They are the equivalent of newborns in the real world. I see them and sometimes I hide. I know that sounds really mean, however after dealing with a particular customer, I believe anyone would see my reasoning and hide as well. I noticed a man in his mid fifties staring at the jean section in the little girl’s section. I did not particularly want to help him, but I really had nothing better to do. I asked him if he was doing alright, he just looked at me confused. I offered him some help. He informed me that he needed to buy some stuff for his granddaughter who was staying over for the weekend. She was a size ten I pointed him to the right stack of jeans, he thanked me and we parted ways. I wish it had ended there. I was moved to the cash register, thirty minutes later he is ready to check out. I ask him again if he found everything okay. He responds with a thank you. I begin scanning his items and notice a few things. He had a mixture of a women 's size ten jeans, girls plus ten jeans, girl’s size ten slim jeans, and regular size ten jeans. I knew this was obviously wrong, and because we had a special on kid’s jeans that day the store was packed. There was a line all the way to the back of the store, and there was a hapless man in front of me that looked just as tired as i was when i informed him that he had gotten the wrong size of jeans. He went back to the pit of hell that was the kid’s section. I continued checking people out but i felt bad for the man. I asked someone to cover for me and went to help him. I found him staring at the jean section with a blank look in his eyes. We started hunting for those size ten regular jeans that seemed to as nonexistent as bigfoot. It took an hour and thirty minutes to find all the jeans that the customer needed. Afterwards I checked him out and I asked